Draco's Side
by naturegirlrocks
Summary: This will follow Goblet of Fire, Order of the Phoenix, Half-blood Prince and Deathly Hollows from Draco's POV. Mostly though diary notes. This was originally a canon-challenge that got out of hand. WIP!
1. Prologue: The Prisoner of Azkaban

Prolouge: The Prisoner of Azkaban

Draco could exactly pinpoint the moment when he began to loose faith in Father, the moment when that seed of doubt was sown into his soul.

It had been in third year; Draco was thirteen years old and very sure of himself and of his father. At least he thought so. It was the first class with professor Lupin, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. The man wore shabby clothes and had no more dress sense than a house elf. Later professor Lupin would turn out to be a werewolf, no real surprise there. Father had been quite upset over this, but Draco had deep down under his frown and scorn admitted that Lupin had been one of the best teachers he'd ever had.

For their first class Professor Lupin had found a boggart in a closet in the teachers' lounge. Draco was very interested in boggarts at this young age. Actually he had been interested in all kinds of dark, beasty, slimy, creepy and crawly things. Except for hippogriffs of course. He had used to like hippogriffs, in books that is, but that was before that rabid beast of that oaf Hagrid's had tried to kill Draco. Just a big stupid horse-bird. Father was going to sort that out, and then Draco would get his revenge.

He was still wearing his fake sling and bandage around his right arm, stretching his ailment as far as he could. Snape had even made Weasley and Potter cut Draco's potion ingredients for him. That had been fun. The only thing wrong with his arm was a white scar marring his perfect skin from his elbow to his wrist. Madame Pomfrey had said it would pass away with time (shows how much she knew).

But his parents had never let him see a boggart. There had been plenty of them found at the Malfoy Manor, because it was such an old house and had so many good dark hiding places. Boggarts were said to take the shape of your biggest fear and use it against you, it might even try to scare you to death. Draco had always wondered what his greatest fear was.

It was actually quite hard for the thirteen year old Draco Malfoy to think of what he feared the most. Sure, he could admit, but only to himself, that he was not a brave person. In fact he was a nervous child, backing away from any danger if he saw it, preferably with Crabbe and Goyle between him and the danger. But that didn't mean that he was an easy pushover. He just really disliked being in pain and of course he didn't want to mess up his clothes or hair.

He loved to read stories about ghosts, vampires, werewolves, hags and mad warlocks, but it was quite difficult to be scared of them since his father often invited all of these to the Manor on a regular basis for friendly get-togethers and luncheons. Draco had always been brought up to not be scared. How ever his parents succeeded in this could be discussed at length. Maybe that was why he had never been allowed to see a boggart, because his parents didn't want him to know what his deepest fear was. He wondered if his father even imagined that the subject would ever come up at school. Probably not. What teacher would be foolish enough?

The Slytherins was sharing the Defence Against the Dark Arts class with the Hufflepuffs. Draco was not going to show his greatest fear to a bunch of Hufflepuffs. He was not mad, for Salazar's sake. Apparently, the Hufflepuffs had shared his sentiments, against popular beliefs they were not mad either.

"Please professor," Justin Finch-Fletchly from the Hufflepuffs suddenly held up his hand to Lupin and asked in a shy and trembling voice. "Must we do it with the Slytherins?"

"Well…" Lupin had looked hesitant.

Both Hufflepuffs and Slytherins nodded in a nervous murmur. It was quite amazing, Hufflepuff and Slytherin almost never agreed on anything. It was decided that the houses were going to meet the meet the boggart separately.

While the Hufflepuffs waited outside the teachers' lounge, the Slytherins lined up before the closet with the boggart. Draco placed himself in the middle of the line so that hopefully his turn would not be that memorable. Goyle was called up first by Lupin. The shabby man was looking sympathetically at the big boy as he explained the _Riddikulus_-charm for the third time.

"Ready?" asked Lupin walking forward to the closet.

"I guess," grunted Goyle, hurriedly glancing over to Draco who had nodded sternly but encouragingly.

Lupin opened the door. All of the Slytherins gasped for air as _Draco_ stepped out of the closet and looked over Goyle with the same contempt that he only used for Potter and his followers. The students whispered and looked at Draco. Lupin frowned. Then the boggart opened its mouth and spoke in Draco's worst drawling voice.

"No," it said. "I'm not helping you any more. Do it yourself, you fat troll."

Then it turned around and walked right back into the closet, closing the door firmly behind it.

Draco was flattered that Goyle thought so highly of him, but he also knew that his image as a bully would get a bit damaged after this. It was a quite revealing moment for Draco, but not _the_ revealing moment. It took Draco the rest of the lesson and all the chocolate in Professor Lupin's deep pockets to get Goyle back to his old self again. They were seated on one of the teachers' sofas looking on as all the other Slytherins took their turn with the boggart.

Pansy's evil grandmother appeared before her. Pansy had called _Riddikulus!_ and the old woman was wearing a pink princess dress with a wave of Pansy's wand. Theodore turned a swamp troll to a splash of water and Blaise made a big cockroach tap-dance. Crabbe's greatest fear had tuned out to be his older brother, who was quite a bully, even by Slytherin standards. Crabbe didn't manage more than to give his brother a big pimple on the nose with his spell before he hurried over to Draco and Goyle. Then, a couple of minutes later, there was only Draco left.

"Ready?" asked Professor Lupin, the man had a softer look in his eyes as he looked at Draco.

_Yes_, Draco thought while giving Lupin a evil glare with a nod. _My reputation is certainly damaged_

Draco took his wand in his 'non-damaged' left hand. Draco was fine with what ever hand he used, he could use them both equally well – a trick that often surprised his opponents when duelling. He nodded to Lupin, keeping his face schooled to show his contempt for the tatty man.

A tall figure in a long black cape stepped out; the hood was over the head and casting the face into shadows. It was a Dementor. He remembered his meeting with Dementors on the Hogwarts Express a couple of days earlier. Draco had hidden himself in the Weasley twins' compartment, totally by mistake of course. It had been so shameful and he had later said that it was only to see their terrified faces. But to tell the truth, he hid because he knew far to well what the creatures could do. It had not been Draco's first meeting with the guards of Azkaban. Lucius had brought him to visit the prison more than once. First time had been at an age of five. It was all a part of his training, his father had said. It hadn't worked, but his father never knew that.

Potter was scared of Dementors. The Gryffindor had even fainted on the train. All of Draco's jokes and jaunts would have been for nothing. And even the _thought_ that he and Potter would share something like this made Draco's head boil. He hated the boy with every inch of his life. Draco did not accept this. Draco Malfoy was nothing like Harry Potter. He glared at the Dementor with the glare only a young spoiled rich teenage boy could glare.

Draco raised his wand to call the spell. Then, suddenly, the hood fell from the dark figure's head. It was his father, his silver blond hair glistening in the candle light, his eyes hard. The other Slytherins took a deep gasp. Lupin tilted his mangy head a little. Draco was so relieved, shocked and scared at the same time that he laughed right out loud. He had to sit down on the floor not to fall over.

The boggart had been too confused to attack.

It was not until later that night that Draco actually realised what this had meant. If his greatest fear was his father, and his father wanted him to prevail over his fears… Wouldn't that mean that he had to prevail over his father?

He had hurriedly pushed this thought as far back in his mind as possible with a exercise professor Snape had taught him, and tried to concentrate on coming up with things to torment Potter with.

….

Third year had held a two more revelations for Draco, and he didn't even take Divination.

Up until the last Quiddich match of the season, the one between Slytherin and Gryffindor, Draco had only thought of Potter in terms of hate, envy or fear. Yes, Draco feared Potter, _sometimes_. But who wouldn't be weary of a person whose severed head had been floating in mid air close to the most haunted place in Britain. Who wouldn't be weary of a thirteen year old boy who was able to hurl a full fledged giant Patronus right at you? And who wouldn't be weary of someone actually becoming friends with Sirius Black?

Not that Draco had any proof of the Sirius Black-thing, but he had his suspicions. Just as he had his suspicions about the sudden disappearance of the Hippogriff that attacked him. Draco could feel it in his gut every time he looked at the trio of friends. More than that, he could see in the gleeful looks Potter gave him. The looks that said 'go to hell, rich boy'.

But that was later. Draco's revelations happened just before and after the final Quiddich game. It was about the Cup. Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team captain, was beside himself with anger. He was putting all his efforts in training the biggest and scariest guys in Slytherin house in the game. Draco felt like a dwarf beside his team mates.

"Smash them!" bellowed Flint as an inspirational speech before their practices. "Rip them to pieces!"

On the news that Potter had got a Fire Bolt, Flint nearly chewed foam. Draco had been sent out to spy on the Gryffindor practice, and on Potter's broom.

Draco had hid in the commentator stand, looking out over the field. On another stand, not far from him, sat Weasley and Madame Hooch. Opposite him he thought he had noticed a dark shadow in the shape of a big dog, but that thought disappeared when Potter took to the air. The turns, the grace, the smooth lines. Potter could really fly. And there it was. Draco was admiring Potter! Admiring!

Draco had to leave after that. He felt sick. During the walk back to the castle Draco was again practicing Snape's mind exercise. It felt like he had sullied his brain. He hated Potter, he envied Potter, and he feared Potter. He did not admire him.

Well back at his common room with the team and Flint maniac chanting, he could yet again come back to the 'smash and rip' mentality. But again, a seed had been sown.

Then there was the revelation that tore down everything Draco ever knew about himself, enemies and friends. But most importantly of all, it was going to push his soul on to the real step of adulthood and give him the first real solid brick on which he would later build himself up as a man. But, again, that would come later.

The Gryffindor victory celebrations could be heard all the way down to the dungeons. The Slytherins sat solemnly mourning their loss. Some of them cast sour looks on Draco; like it was his personal fault his Nimbus 2001 didn't out fly the Fire Bolt. Feeling a bit sour and angry, Draco had waived away Crabbe and Goyle and left the dungeons.

He started skulking around the castle, trying to walk of some steam. He passed Mrs Norris, but the cat just purred at him kindly and continued her prowling. Cats loved Draco, he had never understood why, but he was not the one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If only what ever it was could make McGonagall friendlier against him, he could get better grades in Transfiguration. But alas, his cat-befriending skills did not work on the Animagi.

"I hate you!"

Draco stopped. The call sounded exasperated. The voice was familiar. He looked around, straining his hearing. There came some more noise from a room not far away. It was one of the rooms that usually were made into guestrooms when ever the school had overnight guests. When the rooms were not used, they were left empty and often without any painting for guardian.

"Fuck, I hate you! Ah!"

Draco suddenly recognised the voice as Marcus Flint's. It sounded like he was being beat up or something. He hurried up to the door, ready to rush in to help his captain if needed – or at least run and get Snape. He pushed the door up just a fraction and peeked inside.

"Do you feel that? Do you feel that?" gasped Oliver Wood violently pumping his naked hips between the straddled, equally naked, legs of Marcus Flint. "That is the cock of a winner, you fuck. A winner!"

"Damn you, ah, fuck, you…" Flint convulsed, pulling Wood towards him, his nails leaving red marks over Woods back.

"Yeah," Wood had a firm grip around Flint's right ankle and left knee. "You ugly fuck, a winner… huh…"

"Hate! You!" gargled Flint, drawing blood from Wood's back with his sharp fingertips.

Draco could now clearly see Flint's penis, swollen and so much bigger than he ever seen it in the Slytherin shower room or in the Quiddich locker room. Draco always compared himself with the older boys, wondering how much he would grow in five years. He could also see where Wood's penis fiercely moved, firm, red and shiny, in and out from Flint's body. It took him a few moments to understand exactly what hole that was. He put his hand over his mouth to stifle the gasp that slipped out of his throat.

_A man could do that to another man_ he thought amazed. _And they don't even have to like each other…_

Draco's pants were now really tight, more than he ever been since he discovered masturbation little over a year ago. There was a sudden muffled scream followed by another from the room. Then there were just heavy breaths. Draco got up on his feet and ran, as good as he now could, to the nearest bathroom.

This revelation was not going in the dark back storage of his mind. It was to be kept in a place that Draco could access and access again until his memory and imagination had jumbled it up so much that he wouldn't be able to remember how really happened.


	2. GoF 15th August to 7th December

_15__th August 1994_

Dear Diary

Father took me to the Quiddich World Cup yesterday. We lived in a tent, which was quite barbaric, but father said it would be a good learning experience for me. It was in striped silk which was fine I guess. But it was abysmally small. The Nott's tent had _three floors_. Father said they where show-offs and I totally agree. But still, we only had room to bring _two_ of our peacocks to guard the tent.

I met Potter in the executive box. He probably got in the because of his scar, why else would anyone put up with him? The Weasleys and the Mudblood-know-it-all were there as well. It was despicable to watch them. I noticed that mother and father quite agreed with me. They were both staring more at the two eldest Weasley brothers than on the game. For Weasleys, the brothers were actually fairly good looking. Not that I looked that closely anyway. At least their clothes were not patched.

Potter had a big green Irish bow of shamrocks on his chest. When I noticed I threw away my own that I recently bought and immediately ordered Flopsy to go and buy me a Bulgarian bow instead. That bow was red with a lion. I threw that away as well.

Potter tried to dive of the railing during the Veela performance. Neither Father nor I are affected by the Veela so we could sit and laugh at him and his silly friends going gaga. It's in our blood, father told me – whatever that means. All I know is that I didn't think the Veela was that pretty at all. Pity the performance stopped before Potter could fling himself over the railing, that would have been most amusing.

The game was excellent. At least I think so. I was following Viktor Krum with my Omnioculars the entire time and didn't notice much else. We had him, the Bulgarian Minister for Magic and Headmaster Krakow of Durmstrang for tea in our tent last night. It was a most excellent affair and Krum even gave me a specially signed photograph. Then he kissed me on both cheeks as is the custom in his country. Even though I noticed that neither the Minister nor Krakow did any such greeting.

By the way, that Ludo Bagman has the most infuriating voice, who ever let him do the commentary should be severely punished. I know he and Father are old friends, but please, there are limits to how much you can let yourself go.

I had to look away when Krum took a bludger to the nose. There was too much blood and my stomach felt a little queasy. Of course I did not tell Father or Mother this, but I doubt they noticed because Father was growling at Mr Weasley's back and Mother seemed to had fallen asleep. Mother has never cared much for Quiddich. Shortly after that the whole stadium erupted because Krum had caught the snitch, and I didn't even get to see it. The nerve of it all!

Ireland won. I was quite happy over this, but I could not show it. Mostly this was because Potter was so happy, but also because Malfoys do not do exuberant acts of emotions in public. Unless they are very provoked, as Father told me when he explained just why he had fought with Mr Weasley in _Borgins and Blotts_ two years ago.

The thing is, Diary, and here it when it gets a little weird. When the Bulgarian team came up to the box to greet the Minister… Well, I sort of offered my handkerchief to Krum as he passed by. It was because he was still bleeding and I thought he could wipe it of because it was making me feel ill again. He took it, but then he looked at me in a very odd way. And instead of wiping his face with my handkerchief he put it in his pocket, still with that odd look on me. Next thing I knew Father had pulled me back by the neck of my robes and pushed me behind him, right into Mother's arms.

As we were walking back to our tent, yes we had to _walk_, Father told me to stay away from Krum. I don't understand why I should though. Father had said the same thing to me last night when I showed him the signed photograph. I wonder wh

_16th__ August 1994_

Dear Diary. I stopped writing rather abruptly my last entry. I was torn away by a noise. As I went out to investigate, Krum suddenly walked up to me and dragged me away. Now I at least know why Father warned me about Krum. I can't believe that I ever idolized that hippogriff-arse-wiper! Now that I know him for what he really is. Pervert! That is it! A pervert.

Last night Father and some of his friends were celebrating Irelands winning, or mourning Bulgaria's loss – I really don't know. Maybe they just wanted an excuse to behave badly. It's been a while since all of them that is still free, that is the so called Death Eaters, have been in the same place. They just needed an outlet. The Muggles were there and so it went on. I was watching from a distance and found it quite entertaining as Father and his friend made the Muggle family dance around in the air.

Viktor had dragged me to the edge of the dark forest, even though I protested and said that I was not scared or the masked men. When we were covered in almost darkness he pushed me against a tree, covering my mouth with his. I don't know is this was a kiss or if he only wanted to keep me from screaming. He pressed his body towards mine. I felt him hardening against me. My thoughts went back to Flint and Wood and I tried to fight him away. He held closer, taking my wrists in his right hand and pressing them to the stem of the tree above me.

When his mouth lifted from mine I gasped for breath. He licked his lips, poking me hard in the stomach with his hips. I was hard myself. "Get away," I said, but I could not really get any power behind my voice.

Krum then pushed his hand inside my trousers. I could fell his hand folding around me. I don't know how to describe the feeling of having somebody else's hand down there. It felt somehow warmer. And it felt good. Again his mouth covered mine and he stilled in my moans and gasps with his lips. I never felt as good as when I came in his hand, and in my trousers. Then it was just sticky.

It was then I heard some familiar voices. It was Potter and his cronies. Krum suddenly and with out warning pushed me forward towards them and hid behind the tree. I guess he was scared that any of his fans finding out he was fondling underage boys in the forest. I staggered a little, finding my balance and strained myself not to mind my dirty underwear.

I did my usual teasing thing with Potter and Weasley. Strangely enough, it's like breathing for me. It is quite sad that he is so good at taking the bait. He falls for my taunts every time. If I were him, I think I would learn sometime. Maybe that is why I keep on taunting him. He is such an easy mark. Anyway, back to the situation. I told him to hurry along so the Death Eaters would not catch sight of Granger. That got them hurrying off.

When I returned to the tree, Viktor was gone. I haven't told Father or anyone what happened. I think, this as well, will be my secret.

_1st September_

I hate school! I hate Ferrets! I hate the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher AND I HATE POTTER!

_30th October_

Dear Diary

Viktor Krum has come to Hogwarts. Of course he would be one of the Durmstrang champions. I never have any luck. That perverted pig could have raped me. Me! A Malfoy! I admit that what he did felt kind of good, but I really didn't like it! You know that I tried to think of it when I masturbated before and I just felt sick. I have to ask Snape to give me extra defence lessons.

Though I have to admit that I had quite fun watching the faces of the other houses as the Durmstrang students sat down at the Slytherin table. You should have seen the face on Weasley and Potter as I leaned over to Krum and spoke to him.

"Don't you dare come near me again, you perverted pig," I said.

"Still as sveet," he said back to me.

The food they served at the feast was atrocious. Though the French cuisine was very interesting, finally there was some class in this place. Some kind of giant Bulgarian sausage drowned in mounts of mashed potatoes. I pushed the dish aside towards Goyle. He ate it all.

_1st November_

Dear Diary

Potter has done it again. I don't know how but that he has become a School Champion. Not that I usually care what Potter does to get his daily dose of attention, but this time I think he's gone too far. As usual he thinks rules don't apply to him.

On the upside, it seems that Potter and Weasley are arguing. It is fun to watch them squirm and walk around each other. The Mudblood Granger is running between them like a disarranged ant.

Krum was also picked as a Champion. He tried to catch me earlier to brag about this, but thankfully he was surrounded by his fangirls and was unable to get to me without making a scene. He really looks like a quiet handsome guy when he is not drooling over me. I really don't understand him. Maybe he is like Father, he and Mother have been sharing male lovers for ages.

I had to help Pansy with her homework again. I can't understand why she picked Arithmancy if she is so bad at it. She should have gone with Millie and Blaise to Devination, they at least know their limits. Personally I think Arithmancy is quite fun, if only Granger could swallow her quill and choke, it would be even more enjoyable.

I'm full of scars and burns. The Blastended Scewts in the Magical Care of Creatures class has grown really big. The crazy big hairy oaf wanted us to put leashes on them and take them for a walk. I got dragged behind one of them for at least a minute before Crabbe and Goyle could save me. Goyle lost both his eyebrows. I admit that the beasts are kind of cool, but they are better admired from a distance, a very long distance, with Omnioculars.

_15th November_

I met a boy from Beaubaton today. His name is Jacques Rossignol, he is seventeen, very handsome. He is almost as blond as me with lilac eyes. It was his eyes that caught me. I'm very attracted to strong coloured eyes. Jacques said that he had a hag in his linage, but you can never tell because he looks really good. He asked me to take him with him for the next Hogsmeade outing.

Krum has begun following Potter around. I don't really understand that. He does not strike me as someone of Potter's regular fans. He often sits in the library, staring at Potter when he and Granger come there to study. I notice, because I keep an eye on Potter as well. Know your enemy and all that. I really enjoy watching the look of misery on Potter's face as he longs for Weasley. Weasley looks just as miserable tagging along with Longbottom, but than again who would not be miserable with Longbottom? Honestly, one would think they were lovers.

I had to take a break and wash my brain there. I just got an image of Potter and Weasley together and felt like I was going to be sick. Though Potter would look

I have to do something to show him how much I hate him. I really think he stinks and should be thrown out on his arse. It has been a while since I did something really funny to him. Blaise got a badge making set for his birthday and has been talking about doing 'support Diggory badges'. I think I have an idea how to improve them.

_22nd__November_

Dear Diary

Don't you dare tell anyone about this or I'll rip out your pages and make mince out of them. Potter is the best flyer I have ever seen. I know he was good, from before, from Quiddich. But the way he handled his Firebolt with that Dragon was amazing. His head will probably grow to twice it size now.

I was sitting in the stands with Jacques, trying to oblige him by complimenting Fleur Delacour's dragon charming. He had just tried to be funny and made a joke about dragons and my name. I laughed politely, if he wasn't so good-looking I would have pushed him of the stands. I've been hearing jokes like those for ages and I'm really fed up with them. Why don't you get a new line? Then Potter came out of the tent, looking really small and pathetic.

The dragon roared. It was a Hungarian Horntail. Very cool. Not my favourite kind of Dragon though. I like the Welsh Green the best. I have boots in Welsh Green and they work well with anything in my closet. Potter shook his wand and screamed something that was impossible to hear over the dragon and Bagman's commentary. Honestly! Who gave that man permission to ever use a _sonorus_-charm?

After a moment when all Potter did had done was just to stand still and tremble, suddenly there was a whoosh in the air. The next moment Potter had his Firebolt in his hands and was in the air. I could never describe what was happening, but what happened was amazing. If I didn't hate Potter that much and if I was not surrounded by Slytherins and if Jacques wasn't right beside me and if Krum wasn't standing by the edge of the pitch glaring, I would have clapped my hands. As it was, I didn't.

_23rd November_

Krum has sent me a small model of the Chinese Dragon he fought in the Tri Wizard. I don't know how to interpret this. He was not spoken to me for days and I was really hoping his attentions had turned to someone else. Not Potter of course. Not only is Potter only into girls but if he was together with Krum his head would explode. That is just wrong. I have placed the dragon on my dresser because Theo looked very jealous of it.

_3rd December_

Since it's the first Saturday of the month, today is a Hogsemede day. It is also my date with Jacques. I was up early to choose the right scarf and fix my hair. I'm so much more mature than many of the others in my year. Many of them were talking about buying candy and toys and jokes. Really! We are fourteen years old. Not babies. iI/i have a date.

_5th December_

~ I ~~~-…

_6th December_

I don't want to talk about it

_7th December_

Snape came by today and told me that Jacques has been sent home. It was done in utmost secret and nobody knows what happened except for Snape, Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore. I begged them not to tell Madame Maxime, because I won't have giants knowing my secrets. She thinks that Jacques started a fight and I was injured, apparently Jacques has confirmed this. I was also promised that no one else would ever know, especially not Father. Snape offered to help me occlude what happened, I said no. Malfoys don't need that kind of help.

Krum tore away from the Library and visited me in the hospital wing. He believed the lie that I had a mild case of the dragon pocks and stood by the door, waiving at me. He did not get close, probably not to get infected. He gave me a Get-Well card with a smutty Bulgarian haiku. It was kind of funny and I gave him a weak smile.

I guess I'm partly to blame for what happened. I told Snape that I may have led Jacques on, Snape gave me one of his most piercing glares and told me never to talk like that again. I guess I'm not as grown up as I thought.

How come what seemed so alluring between Flint and Wood in my memory and imagination is in reality so filled with pain and fright? I wonder if a Boggart still would appear as Father to me?


	3. GoF 25 December to 25 May

_25th December_

Presents: New dressrobes for the Yule ball from Mother, black velvet with a high collar, she has excellent taste as ever. A big box of my favourite chocolates and a brand new book about grooming charms from Father. New quills from Goyle. Tasty Troll-shaped Toffies from Crabbe. Maldores Hair Tonic Products from Pansy. Book about Potion Fungi from Theo. Bathrobe from Blaise. Advanced Potions book from Snape. Big bag of assorted candies from Millicent and Daphne. A autographed Golden Snitch from Krum.

I think Krum has changed tactics and is trying to charm me. But I'm firmer now than ever. After what happened with Jacques I will never ever let my guard down again before pretty words and flattering touches.

I'm taking Pansy to the Yuleball.

_26th December_

Krum had brought Granger to the Ball. And I was just softening up to him, a little, if he's interested in mudbloods then there is no account for his taste. Granger scruffed up quite well though, for a girl and a mudblood. She shrunk her teeth. Ha! I knew that I would find her weak spot in the end.

Karkarof did not look happy when Krum danced the first dance. Potter did not look happy either. He has not a clue how to dance. His partner had to drag him around the floor. I noticed that he was looking wistfully at Diggory's date, the Ravenclaw seeker. It seems like Potter has a little crush. Now how to best use this against him?

A girl from Beaubaton cornered me telling me in her vivid, and colourful, French how mean I was for getting her friend sent home. I answered her back, in fluent French of course, that if she continued to have friends like that she would find herself very sorry indeed. I didn't feel good after that and left the party. Pansy stayed behind to dance with a Durmstang boy.

I did get a glance of Weasley and Granger screaming at each other before I left though. Potter was sitting between them, looking miserable. That made me feel a little better as I returned to the Slytherin dorms.

_28th December_

There is going to be a New Year's feast on the Durmstrang ship. I got an invitation. I have been having horrible nightmares lately, so I could use a distraction. Crabbe and Goyle have promised not to leave my side for a moment.

They are really good friends. I don't tell them that often enough, never in fact. I knew from the start that it would pay off doing all that tutoring. With my help they are almost straight A's. It has helped me too, with all that extra work I'm getting E's and O's all over. Father is very proud.

I just found out that Snape is also going to attend the Durmstrang celebrations. I feel much better now. Again he has offered me help, I declined.

_1st January 1995_

Dear Diary.

It's so funny, and also very wrong and disgusting of course. I know now why Krum took Granger to the ball. He thought _I_ was in love with her! Apparently I have been too open in my spying, teasing and hate for Potter. Krum thought I was jealous because Potter is with Granger so much! HA! The very thought, me jealous of Potter.

Anyway, Krum thought that if he took Granger to the ball I would give _him_ more attention. It was all explained to me by one of his friends on the New Years feast onboard the Durmstrang ship. It was kind of hard to understand all he said since he was very drunk and switched to Bulgarian _and_ Russian from time to time. I, of course, have a basic knowledge in both these languages, but I don't speak drunken slang. The gist of it was that Krum now had _fallen for Granger_. And Granger would not give him the time of day when Potter and Weasley was around.

I don't know if I should be relieved or offended.

I slept over on the ship, there was no one sober enough to ship us back to shore. Not even Snape, who had been grunting irritably with Karkarof in a corner all night. I was invited into several beds, there among Krum's. His crush on Granger did not seem to stop his advances on me. Again I did not know if I should be relieved or offended. I stayed firmly tucked in between Crabbe and Goyle all night, with a deafening spell around my head to keep out their snores. I was spared from nightmares, just until morning when I woke with a start by a memory of pain.

_15th January_

I met Rita Skeeter today. She's a Animagus, a litte bug. It fits her. She wanted to know about Hagrid. I told her about how the oaf's hippogriff had tried to kill me, showed her the scar on my arm and everything. Anything to make Potter more miserable. I wish I could make him cry. Oh, what a sight that would be.

I know that the article about Potter missing his parents and crying was a lie. Potter would never do something like that. But it is still fun to tease him about it.

Snape is angry because someone is stealing from his ingredient cupboard. I had to listen to him complain about it all through my defence lesson with him. Thank Salazar that he has taught me well in Occumancy, I managed to block half of it out. I like Snape very much, but sometimes he can be a little too much gloom and misery for even me to handle.

Again I'm stuck doing other people's homework. I can't help to feel sometimes that they are taking advantage out of me. I know Greg isn't, poor sod, but I have my suspicions about Vince. I actually saw him awake during the History of Magic lesson today. But maybe that was because Binns was talking about wizards beheading trolls in the middle ages. Still, I won't be made a fool of.

I've noticed that I spend my time doing homework down in the dungeons in Snape's office more now than before. Somehow I feel safe there with him. I'm still not asking him for help with my memories though, I can handle it.

_10th February_

Dear Diary

Potter is so boring. He's so depressed over something that it's not fun to tease him anymore. Thankfully I have done my best to spice things up and I hope that the result will soon be known. I won't tell you all, but there is a certain reporter that has taken contact with me wanting to know things about Potter. I'm only happy to help.

I had a worrying letter from Father, asking me to be careful. Just that. Be careful. I don't really understand what he is talking about. Maybe it's the same thing that Snape and Karkarof are talking about. I have noticed Snape touching his left arm more often than usual, but I'm too scared to ask him.

I have less nightmares now, but I think that is because of the sleeping potion I asked to get from Snape.

_15th February_

I think I got a Valentine from half the Slytherins, some from Ravenclaw and a few from Hufflepuff. There were even a couple from Durmstrang and Beaubaton. No Gryffindors, even though I know several of them has been gawking at me. Not that I care about that kind of thing anyway.

I noticed Potter was getting fewer letters this year. Skeeter's articles seemed to have done some good damage. Though I was not pleased to see that he actually seemed happy over his shrunken pile. I made a show out of displaying my pile of letters as I passed, but Potter ignored me. He was more preoccupied reading giant books and looking flustered. I'm sure he hasn't got a clue how to finish his next task. I like this look on him.

One of my letters was from Jacques, saying he was sorry and apologising. I had to run to the bathroom and be sick after that. I burned the letter.

_17th February_

Dear Diary

Hagrid is a giant! Here I was thinking he only had accidently drunk a whole bottle of Skelegrow as a child. I can't believe this is why Skeeter asked me about him. She even quoted me in the article. Pansy showed it to me in a happy fluster and pointed out my name. I really didn't like that, Mother reads Witch Weekly – she will scold me when I get home. Mother doesn't like tattletales. But what else can I do? If I don't tell on Potter and his little friends I loose my greatest entertainment. Salazar knows I need a bit of fun. I just laughed and tried to get a reaction out of Potter, it worked quite well.

_20th February_

I was sitting at the edge of the Black Lake today, watching Krum swim around, trying on different kinds of transformations of water creatures. The Big Squid bobbled beside him from time to time but let him be. Some of his classmates were standing on the reeling on the ship watching it with their wands pulled.

I have been more distant to Krum lately. But then again, he has been showing more attentions for Granger than for me. He complains to me sometimes over her. I think he is still suspecting me to fancy her. He said, kind of smugly, that I have been looking more often on her lately. Maybe so, but it's only because Potter is mostly hanging on her robes tails with his desperation clearer and clearer in his face. I'm just waiting for him to screw up and then I have him.

By the way, unicorns are boring. Ever since that article came out Hagrid has been hiding, which is actually very wise of him. Father wrote a very angry letter to Dumbledore and to the Ministry of Magic about the oaf. I totally agree that giants have no place teaching at a school, but _unicorns?_. They remind me of that night in first year when I saw that monster in the Forbidden Forest.

Why does Blaise continue to ask me for help with his Devination homework? He can't seem to realise that it's not my subject. Now I have to read up on that too. And don't forget to ask Snape about more calming potions.

_24th February_

Dear Diary.

It's official. Krum has given up on me. Not that I care. I certainly don't want his hands on me again. To be honest, I would be happy for the rest of my life if I never felt anyone's hands on me ever again. But it was fun to gloat to others that I was so close to him. But I guess you can't be close to someone you are trying to keep at bay.

The reason I know Krum's resignation is that the second task of the tournament was today. Bagman told us though the _soranous_ (again that man!) that the merpeople had kidnapped a person that was the most precious to the champion and hels them capture at the bottom of the lake. I was not kidnapped. Granger was. Not that I want to be kidnapped and be stuffed in to a dirty lake full of squid excrement and freaky merpeople.

We sat on the stands on the other side of the lake and watched as the champions dived in. Potter was the last to go. He waded out in the water looking cold and scared. He was about waist deep when he stopped and looked around. We laughed and jeered at him. We thought he had no clue what to do. Was he going to take a deep breath or something?

Then Potter looked like was going to choke. He held his neck, gasping for air. Some of the Hufflepuffs screamed. Blaise and Pansy snickered beside me. I felt a twitch of worry. I don't like Potter one bit but life would be boring without him to torture. Father would very much like see him dead; he has said so many times. Not that I care, I just need my entertainment. Then Potter looked like he fell over and then he was gone.

We waited for a moment to see if he should surface like a balloon. I could see Bagman and Porfessor Moody go up to the edge of the water to check that Potter was not drowning there. It seemed that he had swum away.

It was boring to wait for the champions coming back. Sometimes we saw big bubbles of air coming up to the surface. They popped in sparks of different colours, indicating that they were using magic under water. Theo had brought his chess set and he and Blaise were playing. I dully looked on as their pawns fought with each other. From time to time Pansy called out when a new bubble popped.

After about an hour there was a loud cheer and Krum, looking like a shark with legs, resurfaced carrying Granger. He handed her over to Madame Pomfrey and shook himself back to human form. I noticed that he was trying to talk to Granger as she awoke, but she had gone straight to the waters edge nervously shifting her feet. I gave a half a smile.

"He has no luck there" said Pansy with a grin. "Granger is head over heals for Weasley. I even I can see that and I'm not remotely interested." This was news to me though and felt a little disgusted while thinking of Granger and Weasley together. But then again, if his best friends got together then Potter would be even more lonely and miserable. I wished Granger luck for the first and, hopefully, last time in my life.

Cedric was next to return, he was carrying that Ravenclaw seeker. There was another match, but this time the feelings seemed to be mutual as the two of them huddled under the same blanket given by Pomfrey.

Fleur returned alone. She was screaming and crying. Madame Maxime had to hold her back, but even she with her fat giant bulk had trouble holding on to the girl. It was probably her Veela blood that gave Fleur that extra strength. Father has told me that Veelas, and even part-Veelas, can do amazing things when it came to protecting family and loved ones. Why he told me this I have no clue what so ever, but then again I was only five at the time and Father maybe thought it was a good night time story.

A few minutes later there was a great gasp as Potter surfaced right in the middle of the lake. He was holding on to, not one, but two bodies. He immediately sank again, but seemed to float up again by pure will. He struggled like a madman, pulling Weasley and a small blond girl with him. The teachers and Bagman hurried forward into the water to help him up.

Then Potter was surrounded and I could not see him from my place at the stands. I glanced him though as Delacour kissed him. I huffed and told the Slytherins that we were leaving. I saw Snape on the way back; he seemed very angry and kept growling about Gillyweed and thieves. I smiled as I knew Potter was in trouble again.

_20th March_

I have never had a more boring March in my life. All dry and windy. There are non-stop homework. I almost, ialmost/i, feel jealous of Potter for getting off the exams. I'm cooped up in the dungeons going over texts and notes with Greg and Vince. There is not even Quiddich to take my mind of things. Not that I want to do Quiddich.

I have been trying to get on the broom in my spare time to get a little exercise. Not even the couching charms on my Nimbus 2001 can take away the reminding feeling of what it feels like to have the broom between my legs. I think I really need to see Snape and let him inside my mind. It has been almost four months and I'm not coping this on my own anymore. I know Malfoys should not admit defeat, but enough if enough. I need to be able to fly my broom!

_1st April_

I HATE WEASLEYS! HATE HATE HATE THEM! And Potter too.

_10 April_

Witch Weekly has published an article saying that Krum "never felt like this about any other girl". Ha! Of course he hasn't. He only had male lovers up until now, I know that for a fact. He told me yesterday, apparently making a last effort to get to me before he gave up. In his desperation he confessed everything. He said that he thought Granger was pretty in a boyish kind of way (HA!) and that his parents had pleaded with him to _please try not to be gay_ because it could damage his image. Apparently the Bulgarian wizard Quiddich community is not as tolerant as the Brittish. I advised him to change to a more tolerant team and wished him luck with Granger.

The best thing about the article was that it sounded like Granger was a scarlet woman and was playing both poor Potter and poor Krum along. Snape even read the article out loud in potions. It was great!

_16th April_

Easter Sunday. I'm leaving homework alone today. Snape has promised to meet me in his office and help me with my memories. He has also promised never to tell Father anything about this, ever.

Mother sent me a huge Easter egg full of chocolates. I'm going to bring some of it with me to Snape. He'll like that.

Diary, I'm back. Snape kept me for hours. I have learned many new useful Occulus and Legitems exercises. I think they can be very useful in the exams as well. I have to go back there once a week for more practice. The only thing I'm worried about is that Snape was able to penetrate my mind several times. He knows now everything that has happened with Krum. I really hope that he keeps his promise and keeps it quiet from Father.

He liked the chocolates.

_25th May_

It's one month left to the last task of the Tri Wizard. It's going to be a relief to get rid of them. I was invited to the Durmstrang ship again, together with Snape some other Slytherins from different years. Apparently it was a reward for getting high marks on the latest potions test. We were allowed to attend one of the classes that Karkarof held in English for our benefit. It was a history class about the Bulgarian witch hunts in the seventeenth century.

It was quite interesting. Snape sat beside me and looked grumpy, but that is a normal look for him, so I thing he enjoyed it too. He was glaring at Krum from time to time, but that was also normal, I think.

After the lesson I stood by Snape as Krum told him about being attacked by the Forbidden Forest. He and Potter had gone to talk about Granger, it sounded as if Krum was worried that Potter was a rival for her affections. Anyway they had been interrupted by a dirty and confused madman. Potter had kept calling the man Mr. Crouch.

Potter had run off to get Dumbledore while Krum stayed behind with the man. Then Krum had been stunned and hit on the head. He showed Snape his bump. He offered me a feel too, but I refused of course. I don't know what this is about, but I know who Crouch is. I better write Father and tell him. He asked me to tell him about things like this.

Snape was in a very foul mood. He told me that he had met Potter on his way to Dumbledore, but Potter had refused to tell him what was wrong. I can kind of understand Potter, Snape can be a little harsh sometimes. But that is what makes him so good. He is not hero worshiping like the other teachers. I wish I could be like Snape when I grow up. Better go and write my letter now.


	4. GoF 5th July to 25 July

_5th June_

Dear Diary

Today is my fifteenth birthday. Mother sent me a big bag of candy, a cake and letter saying that my present from her and Father is too big to send by owl, but that it'll be waiting for me when I get home. I think she at least could tell me what it is.

Snape gave me a notebook on potions he had written himself. I think it's the best present I ever got in my life, and I said so to him. He almost smiled at me and told me that I could call him Severus in private. I bet Potter can't call any of his teachers by first name.

….

_24th June Dusk_(Events not recorded in diary)

Draco had had a hard month. He had been revising for three exams: his own, Greg's and Vince's. This was not counting the help he had been given Pansy in potions, Theo in History of Magic, Millicent and Blaise in both Transfiguration _and Divination._ Draco didn't even take Devination, but he could probably pass the test if someone gave it to him. He had also helped a group of third year Slytherins three nights in a row to set up a telescope and draw a star map for one of their assignments.

It felt good when all the exams where finally over and he could take a break. He collected some food in a napkin from the Great Hall and headed out for the stands by the torch lit Quiddich pitch leaving his friends behind. The dusk was coming on and he lit his wand to walk the last feet to the stands. He wanted to avoid people for as long as possible. He was also a little nervous. His father had again this morning sent him an owl telling him to 'be careful'. There had been a feeling in those two single words that had shook Draco deeply.

He chose a good spot for himself on the stands, next to the places reserved for the teachers, and unwrapped his dinner on his lap. There was chicken, a couple of small gherkins and some buns. Draco had also managed to get hold of a chocolate muffin for dessert. Taking his time with the food he studied at the big hedges that now surrounded the Quiddich pitch. He longed to play again and couldn't wait until next year. He had finally got over his sickening feeling on the broom and longed for to take his Nimbus 2001 for a real test ride.

Draco watched as Professor Moody stalked around the hedges for at least the third time. It looked like the old goof was checking for holes in the shrubbery, because he kept poking leaves with his wand. Moody had given him a glare when he first arrived, but Draco had ignored him. Instead he took up the notebook Snape had given him for his birthday; he had not had time to study it closer because of the exams.

It was stupid, Draco thought, that no one in the stands could see into the maze. How was this supposed to be a public event when no one could see what was going on? He had thought the same thing at the second task that had been held under water. Draco smirked as Theo Nott was walking towards him from the castle with his chess set under his arm. He noticed several others also carrying books and games. The tournament was really a game for the contenders, not the audience.

After a while more students, spectators and judges began filling in the stands. Draco had vanished his garbage and was now sitting with Pansy to the right and Snape to the left. Pansy had given him a small yellow and black Hufflepuff flag. Under any other circumstances Draco would have burnt it to ashes, but he conceded and held the flag limply in his hand. Pansy had actually donned a Hufflepuff scarf that she had nicked from a first year. He had noticed Snape roll his eyes.

Draco could see the plump Weasley mother and one of her older good-looking sons hug Potter before turning to the stands and sitting down next to Krum's parents. Draco huffed. It seemed like Potter had a family after all. Too bad it was the Weasleys. Draco would rather be an orphan than live with the Weasleys.

Ludo Bagman began presenting the champions and their individual scores. He also told that they were supposed to enter the maze and bring back the Tri-wizard cup. Draco looked on as Potter and Diggory lined up at the entrance of the maze. Potter looked as nervous as ever and looked to the Weasley mother who flagged a red and gold handkerchief. There was a bang and both Potter and Diggory disappeared inside to foliage. Krum stepped forward to wait for his turn.

"How are you feeling?" asked Snape in a low voice.

"Fine, sir," answered Draco with a blush as he noticed that he had tensed up without knowing it.

There was another bang and Krum was off. Delacour walked up.

"No headaches? Nauseas?"

"Have you, sir?" Draco glanced worriedly at the man, he looked paler than usual.

"I'm sure it's just my imagination…" murmured Snape and placed his right hand absentmindedly on his left arm.

His father's letter rang in Draco's mind. There came the third bang and Delacour ran inside the maze. Draco tried to lean back with the others, but Snape's rigid posture and his father's words kept him from relaxing.

"Sir?" Draco fished up the short note from his pocket and showed Snape. "I got this, this morning."

Snape looked over the words and paled a little more, if that was possible. Draco could feel the nervousness come from him in a wave and then suddenly, like blowing out a candle, it was gone. Snape's mind was completely closed, not a whisper escaped his thoughts. Draco bit the knuckle of his thumb. Suddenly there was a terrible female scream coming from the maze.

"Oh," chuckled Bagman through his enlarged voice. "It seems that Miss Delacour has run into a spot of trouble! No red lights? No, it looks clear! Good girl!"

The audience shifted uncomfortable. That scream had not sounded like it was clear. Draco could see Delacour's parents whisper worriedly to each other. He moved closer to Snape, without really knowing why. He wondered what Potter's scream would sound like.

After the scream there was some whispers and rustling among the spectators. A few went back to their books and games. Draco noticed that Granger had stood up and begun to pace nervously, she was quickly pulled down to her seat by Weasley. The two of them started arguing under their breath. Snape was breathing harder.

There was a sudden ioooh/i from the spectators. Pansy pulled Draco's arm and pointed. He would have seen it with out her guidance. A part of the maze was lit up with a strong blue light.

"Is that a Patronus?" echoed Bagman's voice over the grounds. "Impressive magic from either Krum or Diggory there."

"That's Potter," whispered McGonagall to Fleetwick on the other side of Snape. "Diggory can't do anything like that, and I doubt Krum can either. You remember that stag Potter set on against Malfoy last year?"

Draco remembered far too well. He had not been to near to pee in his pants since he was four. He watched the blue light flicker and extinguish. There was a moment of silence. No one moved. After a few minutes, just as they were beginning to relax, there was a great ipop/i. Then silence again. Snape placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Draco looked sideways at him.

"What happened?" Bagman sounded confused, and scared – really scared.

At that moment Hagrid came out of the maze carrying both Delacour and Krum. Both were unconscious. McGonagall gasped and rose. Snape also got up to his feet, hesitated and then turned to Draco.

"Do as your father told you," he said and hurried of with the other teachers.

"What does he mean?" asked Pansy and frowned.

Draco just shook his head. He had dropped the Hufflepuff flag on the ground. Fleetwick was telling people too keep to their seats. Krum's and Delacour's parents were sprinting to their children. Granger was on her feet and almost jumping; Weasley was also standing trying to hold on to her. Mother Weasley was whispering franticly to her older son, who seemed to pat her reassuringly on the back.

Several people were going into the maze with their wands alight. There was a tatter of panicked voices spreading around the stands. Dumbledore strode forwards and held up his arms to ask for attention. He got it quickly, everybody stared at him. He cleared his throat.

"They were stunned?" bellowed Bagman's engorged voice. "Oh, sorry…"

Dumbledore gave an impatient glare over his shoulder before he turned back.

"Please stay calm!" his voice was not charmed, but he still was heard by everyone. "Miss Delacour and Mr Krum are not in any danger. We are still looking for Mr. Diggory and Mr. Potter. I'm sure by now any of them has reached the cup and are on their way back..."

"What do you mean there is nobody in there?" Bagman's scream made everyone jump.

"Ludo!" yelled Dumbledore turning around.

Apparently someone had turned Bagman off since the "sorry" came back in a low distant voice. Dumbledore sighed and tried to look calm which, to his credit, he did very well. He repeated that everyone should stay calm and then went back to the others.

"Hermo-ninny," Krum was walking up to the stands holding his father's shoulder.

There was a spontaneous applaud at his appearance. Krum waived and smiled. His mother and Karkarof were standing behind him. Karkarof seemed very jumpy and was looking around everywhere. Granger hurried up to Krum and asked something about Potter. Draco smirked.

He rose to his feet to get a better look at Krum. Not that he cared. He walked a little closer. He could hear Greg and Vince large bodies move behind him. Karkarof's roaming eyes caught sight of him. Draco was immediately seized by his arms. Karkarof was spitting as he talked, his neat goatee stood out in all angles. He shook Draco so hard that it felt like his head was going to come off.

"You!" Karkarof hissed in a low voice. "You are Malfoy! You know! Don't you?"

"Let him go, Igor!" Snape pulled Draco from the crazed man. "The boy knows nothing."

"But you do?"

"I know as much as you. Draw your on conclusions."

"I vill," stammered Karkarof, turned and hurried away.

"We won't be seeing him again," muttered Snape. "Draco, stay here." He turned to the stands that were now erupting. "Everybody! Stay here! Sit down!"

The reaction was immediate. Several of the students sat right down on the ground. Some even landed on each other's knees too scared to move. Draco's knees also buckled automatically, but Snape caught him before he fell down on his arse.

"You need to stay here and stay still. Understand? Stay in plain sight where everyone can see you. So that you are not accused for something later. Do you understand me, Draco?"

"Yes, sir," nodded Draco, he swallowed. "Is… is he…"

"Yes," said Snape shortly, turning away and hurrying to join Dumbledore.

Draco felt a cold wind blow through him as he returned to his seat.

"Draco?" asked Theo carefully. "What did Snape say to you? What are we doing?"

"We are staying here," Draco sat down.

"Oh," Theo nodded and looked at the two Slytherin prefects who looked inquisitive. "We are staying here." The prefects nodded and conveyed the message.

His life flashed before Draco's eyes. It returned often enough to his father and his talks to Draco about the Dark Lord. When Draco was younger, his parents had been frantic about the Dark Lord's return, even searched for ways to find him. When Draco was five, his mother's and father's gist had died down a little. They settled to a pace, a calm life of waiting.

Draco had always heard the stories, listened to their opinions of Muggles and Mudbloods and bloodtraitors. His mother gave up with her waiting about when Draco was ten. Lucius had held out for a few more years. About two years ago when he lost the Dark Lord's diary that had been entrusted to him, he confessed to his family that he believed the Dark Lord was lost and it was time to think of their own future. It had been a blow for them, but they continued business as usual only with new goals.

If the Dark Lord was back now, would his father be one of the first to return to his side? Draco had no doubt that both his parents already stood by his side.

iPop!/i Draco was woken from his thoughts. As he looked up his heart stopped for a beat. Potter had returned.

He looked horrible. Dirt, blood and mud covered every inch of him. He was exhausted; his glasses were gone and his dirty face was streaked with tears. He was dragging a body, hugging it tightly to him. Draco knew before the whispers reached him. _Diggory! It's Cedric! He is dead! Cedric Diggory is dead!_ Draco just stared as Potter was dragged away by Moody.

Draco's first thought was his parents. Where were they? He didn't know what any of this meant but he could add up to the most likely possibility. Snape said that the Dark Lord was back. His parents would answer the call the moment they got it. The Dark Lord would be wanting to take his revenge on Potter. Potter had appeared with a portkey and a dead body. Conclusion; Potter had escaped the Dark Lord and Draco's parents was still there. He took a deep breath.

They had to wait for almost two hours before Snape came and told them to go to their dormitories. It was passed midnight and all of the other houses had gone inside without permission. The Slytherins had huddled together glaring away the stragglers. As the last Hufflepuff had left, Draco had told the others what he knew and his suspicions. He made sure not to mention his parents or his worries for them. They had been sitting there in the dark, quietly contemplating when Snape arrived.

As they returned to the castle guided by their wands, Snape pulled Draco aside. He gave him a rolled up parchment.

"Give this to your father when you get home," he said. "You can read it if you want to, but seal it with my name before you give it to Lucius, you know how to do that. Don't let him know you know. See this as the first test," Snape sounded bitter.

"Test for what?" Draco got no answer. "Test for what. Severus?"

"Go to bed, Draco," said his teacher. "You'll be leaving tomorrow. Things will only be worse from here on end."

Draco watched as Snape mixed with the dark of the night and disappeared. He clutched the roll of parchment to his chest.

….

_25th June_

Dear Diary

I really hate Potter. It took Mother over an hour to get rid of the boils that Potter and his cronies gave me on the train home. There are still scars from where she popped them with her wand. If any of them are permanent I'm going to kill him! I told mother that is was one of Greg's spells that went wrong. Neither she nor Father is in any condition to hear the mention of Potter for the moment.

Father is excited, desperate and confused at the same time. I have never seen him like this before. He has told me all about the Dark Lord's return and what happened at the graveyard. I told him all about what happened at the tournament. He was just called away by the Mark on his arm. Mother was not called.

Severus's letter explained it more clearly. I read it before I went to bed yesterday. It seemed that Moody wasn't Moody at all but Barty Crouch jr! Father had told me Crouch jr died long ago in Azkaban, so that was a bit of a surprise for both of us. Apparently The Dark Lord had been far too angry to fill Father or any one else in on what had happened at Hogwarts.

Severus also told everything that happened after that Potter had returned. That Crouch had used polyjuice; that he set up so that Potter would be a champion; and that Crouch later was kissed by a Dementor. Father said that Severus already has contacted the Dark Lord and retaken his servitude with him. I guess Severus could be an important spy.

I told Mother about what happened to me in December, she was very upset. I didn't tell her who it was though. I hate Jacques even more than I hate Potter, but I still don't want his death on my conscience. Strange that, but then again, I wouldn't want to carry Potter's death either. Let someone else deal with that crap. Why should I dirty my hands? Mother told me not to tell Father, he has enough trouble. Mother is now teaching me how to send a stinging puss hex letter though, that will come in very useful in the future.

Tomorrow I'm going to fly my broom again.


End file.
